Angel Betrayed (15 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Eden

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #General

BOOK: Angel Betrayed
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Sam’s stare still locked on her, and she realized that, yes, he knew about more Fallen. He just didn’t know if he could tell her about them. Anger whipped through her blood. “Dammit, Sam,
trust,
remember? I’m not asking because I want to hurt them! I want to help them. If we can get to the Fallen before Az does, we can stop him.” Didn’t he see that this was their chance?
“We can kill him.”
Seline nodded.
His head tilted to the right as he studied her. “There is one more Fallen in New Orleans.”
Her heart started a double-time beat. “Where is he?” But she was already heading for the door as she tossed out the question. “Let’s get to him, now.”
“Not him,” Sam muttered.
“Her.”
Anthea’s head lifted slowly, and she stared at the man who walked before her. Her husband was dead. His eyes—green and empty—would haunt her forever.
“Why?”
The one question was torn from her. “Ron never hurt anyone. He wasn’t meant to die yet, he wasn’t—”
“You weren’t meant to be with him.” Cold, callous, and the words fanned the rage that was slowly splintering her apart.
“He was the only one I was meant to have!” The pain, the burn, the fall . . . everything had been for him.
“You had a duty. Angels serve.” His eyes were arctic. “They don’t fall.”
She had to force her hands away from Ron.
Not there anymore.
His body remained, but his soul was gone. Ron had been a good man. Loyal. True. He would have paradise waiting for him.
“If angels fall,” the bastard continued, “hell waits.”
She rose to her feet.
“Was he worth it?” He cast a dismissive glance at Ron. “Everything you could’ve had—was he truly worth the sacrifice ?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “He was worth everything.” And she attacked.
The low growl reached her ears too late, and Anthea realized that he’d just been baiting her. Setting the trap, distracting her . . .
This time, her scream held as much fear as rage.
The beast leapt for her, and his razor-sharp claws went straight for her heart.
C
HAPTER
E
IGHT
 
T
he motorcycle roared down the highway, zipping in and out of the line of cars. Seline’s arms curled around Sam, and, with every mile that the bike ate, he cursed beneath his breath.
Anthea hadn’t answered her phone. Not her cell. Not her home line.
She was the only other Fallen in the city right then. Keenan, a Fallen that Az had mistakenly tangled with before, had headed to Mexico with his little vamp. To be safe, Sam had put in a fast call to Keenan and warned the guy to watch his ass.
But Keenan always did.
Anthea . . . sweet, gentle . . . she never saw the threats in the world. Not until it was too late.
He spun the bike into the quiet neighborhood that Anthea had used as a refuge. Small flowers waited near the entrance, swaying lightly in the breeze, welcoming the home owners and their guests. He’d been to Anthea’s home only once. He’d come to make certain she was safe, but she hadn’t wanted his protection.
She’d just wanted the human who was at her side. A man she called husband, and a man that Sam strongly suspected had no real clue about his wife’s past.
Fell for love.
Anthea hadn’t been the first to lose her heart to a human. She wouldn’t be the last.
Her tidy brick home waited at the end of the street. More flowers surrounded the sides of her house.
And her car waited in the driveway. Her car—and a black Jeep.
The husband’s vehicle.
Sam had done his research before he’d slid out of Anthea’s life. Ron, her husband, had checked out. A doting human who was crazy for his beautiful wife.
Sam killed the engine and leapt off the motorcycle. Seline hurried behind him, or tried to. He threw out an arm to block her. “Let me check first.” Because he knew what he could find, and he didn’t want her to walk inside another blood-soaked room.
“No.” Her chin came up. “I can handle this.”
She wasn’t as heartless as she wanted to pretend. Blood affected her too much. Strange for a demon.
“Besides, the last time you left me . . .” Seline threw a quick glance over her shoulder toward the line of perfect houses on the opposite side of the street. Perfect houses, perfect human world. “Your brother jumped me. From now on, where you go, I go.”
His jaw clenched, but she had a point. Az could be close by, and Sam wouldn’t risk Seline again. He caught her hand and hurried forward.
The door was locked. He lifted his left fist, ready to blast it right open.
“No!” Seline frowned at him. “What if they’re just inside, having coffee or something? We can’t burst in there!”
But then he heard a faint sound. Not a moan, more of a gasp. One filled with pain.
Seline’s eyes widened. She’d heard it, too. “Bust that door down!”
The door shattered, and he ran inside. The stench hit him like a punch. Fresh blood and death.
The gasp came again, even weaker now, and he leapt across the room. Blood pooled on the floor, deep and dark, and it spread beneath Anthea’s body.
Her chest was open, the blood gushing out. Her dark eyes were wide and filled with pain. Tears leaked down her cheeks even as blood dripped from her mouth.
And her heart was
gone.
She should have been dead—she
would
be dead, soon. There was no way she could survive. She was in agony, fighting to keep going, able to manage these last moments only because of her angel blood.
“Anthea.” He said her name with fury.
Pay. Bastard would pay.
She didn’t look at him. Those wide-open eyes were to the left. Sam followed her stare and saw Ron’s body.
“Oh, God,” Seline whispered.
God hadn’t done this.
He positioned his body between Anthea and Ron, forcing her to see him. He didn’t touch her, not yet. “Who did this?”
More tears. More blood.
“Sam, she’s suffering!” Seline grabbed him. “Help her.”
They both knew there was only one way to help her.
“Why is she still alive?” Seline whispered. “Why won’t she let go?”
Anthea’s wet lashes dipped a bit. Her gaze seemed to focus on Sam. Seemed to. “Hell . . .”
Her body began to shake. Great, hard shudders that made the blood pump faster. There were gashes on her arms. Her legs. Her neck.
And that hole in her chest . . .
“Was it Az?” he demanded, his hand so close to her cheek.
More shudders. More blood.
“Help her!” Seline screamed.
But there was nothing to do.
Anthea’s body stilled. A slow whisper of breath slipped past her lips as she surrendered to death.
His fingers rose and pressed lightly against her eyelids. There wasn’t anything else she needed to see in this world.
“Sam?” Seline’s hesitant voice.
He stared down at Anthea. The tear tracks and blood looked vile against her light coffee skin. “She fell in love with a human, and she chose to fall.”
I know love, Sam. I finally know what it feels like.
He shoved aside the memory of her voice. “All she wanted was to live with him.”
Live with him. Die with him.
She had.
Sam gazed at the marks on her body, forcing himself to see past the fury. Those deep gouges and slashes looked somehow . . . familiar. “You didn’t deserve this,” he whispered to her. Of all the Fallen he had ever met, Anthea had been the kindest.
She’d deserved this death the least.
I will find him. I will make him pay.
Anthea would be avenged.
Death wouldn’t come easily to Anthea’s killer.
It hadn’t come easily to her.
“Sam, the guy’s neck is broken. Whoever did this—they made his death quick.”
He rose and let the rage build. “Because Ron was just a human.” Collateral damage. In order to hurt Anthea, they’d taken her heart . . . not just the one that beat in her chest.
Seline’s face was pale as her stare darted around the room. “I swear those marks look like they were made by a shifter.”
His shoulders stiffened.
“I was sent after a wolf shifter once.” She pushed back her hair and swallowed. “He’d gone Lone. He’d killed about five women. With every attack, he went right for their throats. The guy just . . . tore them open.”
His gaze returned to the marks on Anthea’s body. Those claw marks were too big to have come from a wolf.
But another shifter . . . perhaps. While no mortal weapon could kill a Fallen, a shifter’s claws would sure be able to get the job done.
Except Az wasn’t a shifter.
Sam carefully skirted around Anthea’s body. When he heard Seline’s sharp inhalation, he knew that she’d seen the bloody letters written on the floor.
Fallen.
“Are there more?” Seline asked, rubbing her arms. “Are there more Fallen close by? Dammit, you know this is a pattern of attack. He’s taking them out! Any Fallen around here is prey for him.”
“I’m Fallen.” He took her arm and pulled her toward the door. He wasn’t just going to leave Anthea’s body sprawled and broken like that. Screw the cleanup team. He’d handle things his way. No one would touch her again.
“Yeah, but you aren’t exactly low on power.”
No, he wasn’t like the two dead messenger angels—Omayo and Anthea had both been messengers.. Messengers couldn’t touch and kill. They couldn’t bind humans. Couldn’t punish at will.
They just made sure that orders were carried out. Last requests granted. Peace given to the departed.
As far as Fallen prey was concerned . . . the messengers never had a chance.
His fingers threaded with Seline’s. “There’s a little rule about Fallen . . .” A rule not many knew.
Seline frowned as they walked slowly outside.
About ten feet away from the entrance to Anthea’s place, Sam turned back and stared at the house. The home next to
Anthea’s was empty. No cars in the drive, no one there to hear Anthea’s screams. He knew that she’d screamed. Anthea wouldn’t have gone down without a fight.
“What rule?” Seline’s worried gaze swept the street.
“If you kill a Fallen, you get his power.” A nice little bonus rush that could be quite addictive to some.
Had Az discovered that addiction?
Some vampires were hooked on angel blood because that rush could be tasted. And for those who killed Fallen, there was nothing quite like that psychic blast to amp up your power. The blast hit the person closest to the Fallen at the moment of death.
Whoever had attacked Anthea had been forced to leave before the job was finished.
Because you heard me coming?
Yeah, he bet the asshole was close by, watching him and cursing because Sam was the one with Anthea’s power.
Power he didn’t want.
He pulled Seline to the edge of the sidewalk. Then he stared at the house.
Good-bye, Anthea.
The house exploded in a ball of flames.
 
Rogziel perched on top of the brick house, his gaze on the fire trucks and humans who swarmed below. He’d followed the fire trucks and the cop cars. He’d suspected they would take him to his prey.
Not many would dare to light the sky this way. The smoke from the inferno drifted high, so high, into the sky. Like a giant black fist striking out at heaven.
Careful or heaven will hit back.
The house was gone, burned in flames that were far too hot for a normal fire. Yet despite the heat, the fire didn’t spread to any of the other houses.
Because that wasn’t the plan.
Rogziel’s gaze swept the crowd.
There
. Sam was on his motorcycle, watching the fire, and not caring that the human cops were just feet away from him.
Seline was at his side. She should know better than to get so near to the fire.
As he watched, Seline leaned in even closer to the Fallen. She whispered something in his ear, and Rogziel saw her lips brush against his cheek.
Like mother, like lying daughter.
Seline climbed on the motorcycle behind Sam. After a moment, the bike pulled away from the curve.
The humans—so blind—didn’t even glance up. But maybe that was Sam’s power at work. He’d been walking the earth for centuries. If anyone could manipulate the humans, it would be him.
Sam should have been the one to burn. He
had
burned, but, somehow, he’d escaped the fire of hell.
Seline’s body hugged his as they left the neighborhood.
Rogziel straightened to his full height. Humans wouldn’t see him. Not unless he bid them to. His wings stretched behind him, powerful, strong, not burned away to hideous scars like Sam’s.
He
still had power. Enough to take down the Fallen and the half-blood demon who’d finally shown her true colors.
Which one would die first?
Did it really matter?
He smiled and leapt into the air.
 
Sam didn’t take them back to New Orleans. Seline curled her body against his and held on. She didn’t know where they were going, but as long as they were putting those flames behind them, she wasn’t going to question him right then. So she held on, and the miles drifted past. The sun sank and the dark night sky covered them.
They stopped only long enough for gas and for Sam to make some phone calls. Probably alerting his men. And some guy called Keenan.
She fell asleep at some point. Her dreams were restless, filled with blood and fire, and when the motorcycle braked to a stop, Seline’s eyes flew open. “Wh-where are we?”
Darkness. Thick and total.
“Laredo.”
Wait. “Laredo? As in Laredo, Texas?”
He grunted. “We’ll sleep for a few hours, and then we’ll cross the border tomorrow.”
And hit Mexico.
She saw that there actually was a light up ahead. A small motel flashing a vacancy sign. Sam headed for that sign. She grabbed his arm and realized that her legs were seriously like jelly after that drive. “What’s in Mexico?” she demanded.
“More Fallen.”

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